Nope. Thanks for telling me about this new humiliation, Aunt DeeDee.Irritation followed by mounting concern at her absence pricked at me.
Lacy mouthed,Sorry, at me before turning back to the microphone.
“Our first announcement is just a reminder to everyone that each minute of the next seventy-two hours is considered applicable to the final score. Consider yourself watched and evaluated in every conversation, in every interaction, in every single step you take on these grounds. Understood?”
Heads nodded enthusiastically.
I straightened my shoulders in case any eyes happened to land on me.You just need to place. You just need to place. You just need to place,I chanted to myself over and over.
“The second announcement is that Jemma Jenkins has graciously volunteered to lead a Broadway Butt-Busting workout over the next three days.” Jemma waved a hand and beamed as if she were the fearless leader of…butt busting? “Please feel free to join her near the fountain at seven each morning, and don’t forget to let her know your favorite Broadway tune, so she can include it in her song selection.”
Women either eyed Jemma as if they wished they’d thought to offer something so useful, or grinned as if they couldn’t wait to get their butts into gear.
Lacy waited for the room to settle again and then continued. “If your last name begins with A through K, please step to this side of the stage and line up by height, and if your last name begins with L through Z, please move to the other side and do the same.”
So it begins, I thought, before joining the others in ascending the stage. I was relieved to be next to Savilla so I could follow her lead.
Lacy, exhibiting talents I’d never known, led us through walking onto the stage with precise spacing. “Wait a moment,” she would say, putting a hand out until the person in front had taken at least four paces. “And don’t forget: shoulders back, chins ever so slightly downward. Your feet should walk in a line like you’re on a tightrope.”
All of the feet in front of and behind me were in heels at least three inches off the floor, but they were somehow more graceful than me in my nice boots, the only ones Aunt DeeDee had approved for this weekend. It also seemed that most of Lacy’s instructions were for my benefit, and I appreciated the guidance.
After I relearned how to walk, Lacy stood in front of us, moving to a count of eight as she performed the choreography, which mostly consisted of waving one arm or the other in the air while we stepped to the right or to the left. If it hadn’t been for my eye on the prize, I would’ve died laughing, especially because in order to remember the moves, I had to pretend to hold a lasso in my hand and envision that I was corralling a horse. It may have caused a few too many wrist flicks, but at least I didn’t lag too far behind, and by the time the music played, I’d actually mastered the steps, which was good because an elderly woman in the back was watching me and taking notes.
Lacy cued the sound guy in the back, and music blasted through the speakers. Somehow all of us found the beat and proceeded to step in tandem. I did my best to mimic them, keeping a smile in place until the very last note.
“The official Rose Palace Pageant song,” Savilla said, her eyes warm with nostalgia as a 1990s ballad, complete with soaring vocals, played. “I grew up listening to this song over and over while Mommy and I ran errands.”
A childhood filled with pageant tunes. I couldn’t begin to imagine.
Mrs. Glenda Finch stood on the floor in front of the stage, lightly swaying along to the beat. I could see her waltzing around this mansion, crown perched on top of her head as she recalled her glory days. A certain gleam in her eyes gave away her longing to be up there with us.
Before the song finished ringing through the venue, though, I noticed her check her watch a couple of times, tapping a hand against her leg impatiently as if deciding whether or not she should stay. I almost felt sorry for her, the former beauty queen now a bit aimless in her husband’s show, but then her gaze fell on me and she gave the slightest shake of her head.What wasthat look? Perhaps she was blaming me for my aunt’s absence. Or perhaps she didn’t want me here at all.
I swallowed, trying to relax my tight muscles.
She checked her watch one more time and hurried toward the door. Then she was gone.
At the end of the song, we fanned both arms in front of us and took one step forward. Savilla gave me an approving nod, and a surprising flush of accomplishment washed over me. Okay. That wasn’t as bad as I’d expected, not that I would choose this as a pastime of my own volition, but after three or four more run-throughs, we had it down, and I was strangely proud of us—well, of me mostly. I could now appreciate some of the challenges of the pageant world. It wasn’t all about a pretty face and a nice smile. A bit of coordination was necessary as well.
“See. It’s fun, right?” Savilla asked.
“Let’s not get carried away,” I answered, hoping it sounded like teasing.
Savilla tilted back her head and laughed a tinkling sound.
I’d never been a sorority girl, but I’d had a tight group of girlfriends in college and a handful of friends in my vet program—none of whom I’d spoken to or texted or emailed in months. I’d stayed at home on my own a lot the past year, hunkering down in my sadness—wallowing, as Momma so eloquently put it.
Though it wasn’t a conscious thought, as I danced across the stage with these women I realized how certain I’d become after Momma died that if I moved on with my life, even an inch, it would mean losing my connection to the one person who’d known and understood me the best.
Aunt DeeDee had built a relationship with me over the years, of course, but it didn’t come naturally like it’d been with me and Momma. When all dolled up, I might favor Aunt DeeDee on the outside, but my insides—my love of hiking and horses, my preference for sweet iced tea instead of coffee, my disdain forall things showy and pageant-like—that was all Momma. She’d been the mirror I’d held up to myself for my entire life, and without her, I barely knew who I was.
Now, I was being forced out into the open like a sitting duck by that very person, and somehow it wasn’t killing me. Yet.
SEVEN
After we proved that we could manage the moves to the opening song, Lacy gave us a few minutes to grab sparkling water and mingle before our “bonding” got underway. A couple of days ago, I would’ve guffawed at the ridiculous waste of time that the choreography had been, but I’d enjoyed being a part of something bigger than myself as I’d waved my arms and swayed from side to side. I’d missed that kind of connection, and I wondered if perhaps that feeling of community was what these contestants were actually chasing. That and a lot of money.
Lacy came down from the stage and pulled me to a corner of the ballroom while other women chatted and air-kissed. One even slid off her heels and hat for a moment and began doing jumping jacks. With such a spectacle, I could barely focus on Lacy.
